Harry Potter and the Corridor of Mindless Banter
by DarkNite109
Summary: A oneshot of a time Lord Voldemort creeps into Hogwarts to confront Harry in the seventh floor corridor! This was written for two reasons: to be completely idiotic and put a smile on your face.


Once upon a time, there was a very cool dude named Harry Potter. Well, technically, he was not _cool, _as his body temperature was not much lower than that of other human beings, nor was he a dude, as the word _dude _originally referred to a fake cowboy. Harry Potter wasn't a cold-blooded creature or an imitation ranch hand. Regardless, this is a tale about him.

Moving on…

On this particular evening, Harry was sitting in Gryffindore common room, a rather perplexed expression on his face. He hated Thursdays, and he was trying to remember why. While he was following this train of thought, he was approached by his dear, dear friend, Hermione.

Hermione was currently in the middle of a particularly nasty slew of homework, and her appearance (which had never been of Liv Tyler proportions) was suffering accordingly. Her hair was sticking out at odd angles and her rather preppy, Abercrombie-ish wardrobe was a bit rumpled.

"Hello, Harry," she said as she approached, "I have something to tell you."

"What? Cho Chang is really a man?"

"No."

"Professor McGonagall has been at the fire-whiskey again?"

"No, not that either."

"Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy have finally admitted their love for each other?"

"No," Hermione answered, though she seemed to like the idea. (She was a bit of fan-girl at heart). "Some evil-looking man is waiting for you outside the portrait hole. I think it may be Lord Voldemort."

Harry looked up in surprise. No wonder he hated Thursdays! You'd think that Lord Voldemort, otherwise known as Satan incarnate, would at least have the decency to show up on a Monday. That way Harry, who is as much an Emo-kid as Hermione is a fan-girl, could have something to bitch and moan about at the beginning of the week, when people were in the mood for that kind of thing.

Regardless of his indignation, he thanked Hermione for her kind warning and proceeded toward the portrait hole, narrowly avoiding Romilda Vane, who tried to grope him discreetly. Emerging in the seventh floor corridor, he saw that his female friend had been correct. Lord Voldemort was indeed in the hall, currently consulting a large pocket watch.

"God dammit," he exclaimed, "I've missed The O.C. again!"

"Voldemort!" Harry said. The dark lord looked up and shoved his watch back into his shorts. What kind of shorts he was wearing under his spiffy black robes is a mystery that I would rather not delve into.

"Harry Potter!" he declared.

"Yes, that's me," Harry answered.

Voldemort's face fell. It now resembled a depressed flat-faced snake, instead of just your average one. "It wasn't a question. I know who you are! You're my sworn enemy! I am always happy to see you, though at the moment I believe I would prefer to see your girlfriend."

"My girlfriend?"

"I like redheads," Voldemort answered with an evil grin.

"But Dumbledore said you don't like anyone but yourself!"

Voldemort shrugged. "Dumbledore's a bit of a moron. Besides, I don't like myself _that _much."

"Oh," Harry said, "Alright then. Hey! There's something I've always wanted to ask you!"

"Yes?" Voldemort was always ready for a little Q and A.

"Didn't you get your name from Tom Marvolo Riddle? You switched around the letters to I am Lord Voldemort. So why do you go by Lord Voldemort. I mean, isn't that cheating?"

Voldemort tried to think up a witty response, (in truth, his agent had been asking him the same thing for years) but he hadn't had any caffeine since six o'clock that morning. "Shut up!" he said instead.

Harry considered it, but shutting up wasn't really something he was humanly capable of. So he asked, "How dare you show yourself in Hogwarts? And how'd you get in, by the way?"

Voldemort laughed imperiously. "People underestimate the power of a good sewer tunnel."

"You got in through the sewers?"

"No, I disguised myself as a flowering shrub, but people really do underestimate those sewers." Harry had to agree with him there. He admitted it; he had always underestimated sewers.

Just then, Harry's good friend Ron rounded the corner, stopping dead when he saw the pale, uglier-than-sin wizard in front of him.

"Hi Harry!" he exclaimed, "How're you-,"

"I'm kind of in the middle of something, Ron," Harry said, gesturing to the other man in the hall.

"Voldemort!" Ron said, wincing as he realized he had said the name that he so actively avoids using. It just seemed rather idiotic, calling him You Know Who in front of his face. "I didn't see you there."

Voldemort gave Ron a very dirty look, the kind you usually saved for rabid bears and politicians. He raised his wand, "Avada Kedav-," Before he could finish his horrid spell, Harry threw his shoe at him, catching him on the side of the head. Instead of dying, Ron only turned a bright of shade of blue.

"Hey!" Voldemort whined, "I was trying to kill him!"

"No, really? I thought you were trying to serve him a light luncheon of sandwiches and milk! I'm not just going to let you kill my friends!" Harry pulled out his own wand. "You came to kill me! Let's get it on!"

Before Voldemort could respond, an odd rattling began to emit from a broom cupboard across the hall. A moment later, Wormtail and Luscius Malfoy tumbled out.

"Wait!" Wormtail cried, "Who's getting it on?"

"Potter and Voldy, apparently," Luscius observed.

"Don't call me that!" Voldemort snapped.

"I'm bored," Wormtail complained, "Voldy, would you just hurry up and do it already? I wanna get outta here before all the scary little children get here."

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Fine." Before Harry could even move a muscle, Voldemort darted forward and hugged him. "Ha ha! I win the bet! I told you! I'm not afraid of human contact, the Chosen One, or Homosexuals! Come on boys." He, Wormtail, and Luscius crossed the hall and leapt out the seventh story window, and upon landing suffered severe fractures to their ankles. They lived, however, so our dear Mrs. Rowling still has a story to roll with.

Ron, who was still bright blue, approached Harry. "What was all that about?"

Harry shrugged. "I believe Lord Voldemort thinks I'm a homosexual."

"Yeah, well, you did date Cho Chang for awhile…"

"Ah ha! So she really is a man!"

Ron sighed. "You think Hermione will be able to un-blue me?"

Harry assured him she would, and the two of them headed back to the portrait hole. "LAENDER BROWN IS A DUMB WHORE. Good password this week."

The two of them entered the common room, but Harry tripped on his way in, sprawling flat on his face. He had to roll away quickly, to avoid Romilda Vane, who had begun to converge on him again. He and Ron then joined Hermione, who was reading some crappy Muggle romance novel in a corner.

It was just another day at the glorious institution that is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.


End file.
